Becoming a General
by BananaLollipop7
Summary: What it takes to be a general in the Mandalorian Wars...


I trudged my way wearily through the mud of the battlefield, soaked with blood and covered in shrapnel. Tank tracks, boot prints and explosion craters had turned these once lush green plains into mud fields. I paused to side step round a body yet to be collected and sighed heavily. All this blood... Sometimes I wondered if we were doing the right thing.

As I picked my way clear of what had been the front lines for two days, the ground hardened. Here, at the second and in some places third rows of trenches, was where the C and C and medic's tents were. Every so often an extremely resilient tuft of grass still sprung rebelliously from the ground. These tiny islets of green cheered me slightly. They reminded me that things would grow here again. The Republic would recover.

Medic Station 3 loomed before me. Outside it stood Revan. His posture did not betray it, but I knew he was waiting for me. Though I knew Revan made a point of going to whatever passed for medical facilities after every major conflict, it was not something I did. I witnessed enough of the soldiers' pain when we were fighting. I admired Revan's courage and ability to continue to face the aftermath.

"Solana," he greeted me as I approached.

I inclined my head in greeting. I never called him by his name in public. He held aside the tent flap for me. I stared at him, challenging. He stared back, completely impassive.

"They need you," he said, in his no-argument voice.

I had assumed he meant the few Jedi who doubled as medics needed my assistance- needed me to lend them my strength, so I stepped inside. Revan followed close behind to prevent any quick escape.

Immediately, I wished I had not entered. Unlike the small medic stations that were often spontaneously set up as we pushed forwards, this was a large medical facility, set up early in the war effort when we had first established a foothold. Here was where they took the seriously injured, the ones who could not be given a dose of kolto and sent back out, these were the patients who required constant care, and frequently did not walk out again.

I had seen these wounds inflicted, but somehow, seeing medics struggling to save their lives made it all the more grotesque. One man in the corner lay groaning quietly as a doctor changed bandages on a bloody limb- the stump of an arm, I recognised after a long moment. Terrible burns covered his chest and neck. If they got infected, which was probable, he would not survive.

My eyes snapped like blue fire as I rounded on Revan, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. "Why? Why did you bring me here?"

In reply, Revan nodded towards a soldier limping towards us. His face- what was left of it- was familiar to me, and his expression was one of recognition and awe. I was used to these sorts of looks when I was standing next to Revan, but it was not the Hero of the Republic this soldier was looking at. It was me.

He grasped my hands as I checked his staggering approach. "It's you! Bless you, ma'am, bless you!" his reverent whisper left me quite speechless. But he did not seem to want anything more, and allowed himself to be escorted back to his bed by a nurse, who shot me a querying look, before nodding approvingly as she evidently recognised me.

My attention turned back to Revan. His face was as inscrutable as if he were still wearing his damn mask. He did not need the mask to hide his expression. "Why?" I demanded again.

"They need you," he replied coolly.

"There aren't any Jedi here,"

"Not the Jedi, them," he nodded to a man lying on a bed a few feet away.

The soldier would not live- I could see that instantly. It looked like he had taken a grenade full in the chest. Maybe he had. He was feebly holding his hand out to me.

"I cannot heal him. No one can help him now," my whisper had lost its anger now- it was just sad.

"He wants comfort, Sol, not healing,"

"I'm fairly certain he wants to live actually," I replied, my voice cold with my anger at Revan, at the Mandalorians, at this whole stupid war.

"He won't live," Revan replied, ever so quietly.

I held his gaze levelly. Revan wanted me to do the death watch here- and probably whenever I could in the future, as well. I knew Revan did it, but he had never asked it of anyone else. I knew other professional soldiers did it as well- veterans, and captains. But I had trained as a Jedi, I was a fighter, not cut out for this business.

But I knew Revan would get his own way- he always did. And I knew it was a small sacrifice on my part to ease this man's suffering.

"I did not want this,"

"Life is not about what we want Sol. It's not about what he wants either. It's about what we need. You're a hero in their eyes, Sol- you give them hope. They need that. They need to fight believing in something, and they need to die believing in something. Is it so much to ask of us to donate a few hours to comforting these people?"

How could I refuse him? He was right- morally and strategically. Slowly, I went to the man's bedside and took his hand. His grip was feeble, so I squeezed reassuringly. His lips were moving and I bent my head closer to listen to his words.

"Stay with me. I don't want to die alone,"

A single tear traced down my cheek. He could not see- his eyes were closed. "You will not die alone. Do not fear death, we all become one with the Force in the end," I told him, though in truth I was not sure I believed those sweet words of hollow comfort. I had seen too many die in pain and horror.

"Tell..." he coughed lightly, drew in a long rattling breath, then continued, "Tell Liana... I did it for her..."

"I will," I promised. "I will,"

But he had already died.

Numb, I stood and shakily turned back to Revan. His face was as expressionless as always, but his eyes were tender I thought, empathetic.

I had had much experience with men dying under my command though I had been out here but a month. But on the battlefield, it was all so much faster- no time for grief, that came later. Here, I was overwhelmed by it.

Before I could ask my question, Revan answered. "Because it's expected Solana. Because you can't be a leader without compassion for those you lead,"

"I'm not a leader," I replied dully.

"But you are. Malak could not do what you just did. He is a commander, but you... You are a leader. I'm promoting you to General. Congratulations," the last word was faintly ironic, I thought.

"I don't want this," hollowly echoing my earlier statement.

He tilted his head to one side slightly, words were not required.

A soft sigh of defeat and sadness escaped my lips. "But the men need it. I shall do it, because a General is needed. I shall give them a General, Rev. I will not let you down,"

"I know,"

We turned and left the tent. Outside had not improved. Even the tufts of grass seemed to droop now, no longer bringing me hope as I took up that invisible burden of leadership.

"I need you too, Solly. Not just the men," Revan said quietly and I turned to face him. "I need a general I can trust,"

I nodded slowly. "You have one, sir,"

"Jedi Knight Skenoda?"

I turned to see a walking wounded coming towards me. His right arm was missing below the elbow. He was lucky to have retained the joint. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to thank you, ma'am. You saved my life, and the lives of my men. So... thank you," he was a captain, I realised. I did not recall saving him, but he needed someone to be grateful to. I nodded and forced a small smile.

"Anytime, Captain,"

The Captain saluted us and turned to leave with a swift, curious glance at Revan.

"Is that why you were the mask?" I asked Revan suddenly. "With it, you are a symbol of hope, and without it, you can be anyone, you can be part of the crowd without people asking for your blessing, or thanking you,"

Revan only smiled in response.


End file.
